lm. A moving picture."

"A picture that moves?"

"That's right."

"This is something the priests told you about?" Dhuva seemed to be
holding in his mirth.

"Everybody's seen movies."

Dhuva burst out laughing. "Those priests," he said. "They're the same
everywhere, I see. The stories they tell, and people believe them. What
else?"

"Priests have nothing to do with it."

Dhuva composed his features. "What do they tell you about Grat, and the
Wheel?"

"Grat? What's that?"

"The Over-Being. The Four-eyed One." Dhuva made a sign, caught himself.
"Just habit," he said. "I don't believe that rubbish. Never did."

"I suppose you're talking about God," Brett said.

"I don't know about God. Tell me about it."

"He's the creator of the world. He's ... well, superhuman. He knows
everything that happens, and when you die, if you've led a good life,
you meet God in Heaven."

"Where's that?"

"It's ..." Brett waved a hand vaguely, "up above."

"But you said there was just emptiness up above," Dhuva recalled. "And
some other worlds whirling around, like islands adrift in the sea."

"Well--"

"Never mind," Dhuva held up his hands. "Our priests are liars too. All
that balderdash about the Wheel and the River of Fire. It's just as bad
as your Hivvel or whatever you called it. And our Grat and your Mud, or
Gog: they're the same--" Dhuva's head went up. "What's that?"

"I didn't hear anything."

* * *

Dhuva got to his feet, turned to the door. Brett rose. A towering brown
shape, glassy and transparent, hung in the door, its surface rippling.
Dhuva whirled, leaped past Brett, dived for the rear door. Brett stood
frozen. The shape flowed--swift as quicksilver--caught Dhuva in
mid-stride, engulfed him. For an instant Brett saw the thin figure, legs
kicking, upended within the muddy form of the Gel. Then the turbid wave
swept across to the door, sloshed it aside, disappeared. Dhuva was gone.

Brett stood rooted, staring at the doorway. A bar of sunlight fell
across the dusty floor. A brown mouse ran along the baseboard. It was
very quiet. Brett went to the door through which the Gel had
disappeared, hesitated a moment, then thrust it open.

He was looking down into a great dark pit, acres in extent, its sides
riddled with holes, the amputated ends of water and sewage lines and
power cables dangling. Far below light glistened from the surface of a
black pool. A few feet away the waitress stood u